Partners
by Alicia Evilstone
Summary: Blight, Willy Watt, Ten, Spellbinder, Inque and Shriek are the new Revenge Squad. Terry has his hands full, as well as a new Batman to deal with... WHAT!? Read and review!
1. Enter the Revenge Squad

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Batman Beyond: Partners  
By Alicia Evilstone

PART 1

Enter the Revenge Squad

* * * *

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DISCLAIMER: Just so you all know, I do not in any way claim to have any ownership over the characters within this tale. That privilege is exclusively for the folks of DC Comics (who should also know that this is a non-profit kind of story.)

* * * *

The bell rings, and almost immediately a sea of Hamilton High School students anxious to go to their post-curricular activities fills the front steps. Not long after it diminishes, and the scene is littered with students who are standing around catching up on gossip, slowly taking their time.

By the parking lot is one particular couple. One, a black haired young man wearing dark colors and a heavy jacket. On his arm is his partner, an Asian girl daringly wearing all clean, sparkling white. Then again, a girl like her can pull it all off without a hitch.

"Mr. Wayne got you working tonight?" Dana clings to him a little, frustrated by the fact that an old man takes priority before her.

"When has he _not_ got me working?" Terry McGuiness sighs and reaches for the keys in his pocket.

"I wish just for once he could give you the night off." She pouts to him ever so lightly just for the perfect effect. Now he feels like a total heel. "Blade and I were thinking of going to the Boiler Room tonight. It would be really fun if you could show."

"Sorry, Dana. I have . . . responsibilities."

"So you keep saying . . ." She looks away, knowing that this job is important to him. Terry has a past with the wrong kind of crowd, and she knows that he's trying to put himself on the straight and narrow.

"Mr. Wayne is a helpless, lonely old man," Terry lies. "Without me he wouldn't even be able to figure out which room of that huge mansion he's in."

"What are you, Terry? His assistant or his nanny?" The frustration in her voice is apparent, and angrily she throws down her arms then turns away and folds them.

"Dana," he whispers to her gently, placing his hands on her shoulders. She melts into his embrace, turns back and leans closer. "I'll make it up to you some other time. I promise."

She thinks about this for a moment and smiles. "You're just lucky I'm such a sucker for that bad boy charm of yours."

Their lips meet together for a passionate kiss. "I knew you couldn't resist," he can't help but gloat.

Blade and her new boyfriend Craig pull up beside them in an open red convertible and honk, telling Dana her ride is here. "I have to go, Terry," she says walking to the car. "Call me later before I go out, alright?"

"Sure," he says. "I'll talk to you then."

The car drives away, leaving Terry alone in front of the large expensive black car on loan to him from the boss. It isn't exactly a chick-magnet kind of a car, but it has definite class. Terry would rather take real style over cheap sex appeal any day.

At this moment his cel phone rings. Terry answers it quickly and is met by a familiar brooding voice before he can respond. "McGuiness. Ready for a night on the town?"

"Well," he thinks sarcastically out loud, "I was hoping to spend the evening dancing the night away with Dana and some friends . . . but I suppose you have different plans, right?"

The dark voice pauses. "You two go out and have fun. We'll talk again soon."

Terry can hardly believe his ears. Can this be true? Can this be the real Bruce Wayne? An evil clone maybe? "You're… you're kidding, right? Blow off night patrol and have an evening with my girlfriend?"

"Absolutely. I hope the two of you enjoy yourselves."

This is just too good to be true. "You can't be serious. What about… you know… my duties? The city will have to fend for itself for a night."

"That's not an issue. I have the matter well in hand." Terry has no idea what he can say. "Though I would advise you use this time for rest and study. I'll call you if I need anything further."

The phone clicks and the line falls dead. The fact that he has a night off is still sinking into his head. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, especially when working for the original Batman. All he can think to do is throw his hands in the air and cry out, "Schway city, man! I'm going out tonight! Yeah!"

* * * *

Later that evening, a dark, familiar shadow leaps and bounds from building to building, ever vigilant of the goings on below. It remains completely invisible and carefully watches as it darts from one hiding corner to another. This shadow has a name, and to Gotham is known as the Batman.

"Progress report," says the old man into the bat-suit's receiver.

"Nothing." The reply was that of a man in the suit, though not the Batman. "Third sweep over this area and everything seems quiet. It looks like you didn't need me to fill in after all."

"Maybe," says Bruce. "Though it's always good to give the other help a well deserved break once in a while."

"If only Dick, Tim and Barbera had it so easy," chuckles the Batman uncharacteristically. "Speaking of _the help_, as you put it, how do you think he's going to react when he finds out _I've_ been piloting the mantle for you."

"What makes you think he's going to find out?"

"For one thing, he's probably a better detective than you give him credit for. You're a hard taskmaster, Bruce, and from what I've seen I think you underestimate him too much."

"Note taken," growls Bruce. "Now get back to the task at hand."

* * * *

The music pounds and the lights strobe across the packed dance-floor of the inner-city nightclub known as the Boiler Room. A sea of ravers, teenagers and club-hoppers bounce with the beat of the thumping techno music. That is, except for one who just wasn't in the mood.

Dana sighs and swirls her drink with a straw. Every time she wanted to do something even remotely fun Terry would have to be somewhere else. Sometimes she couldn't help wonder who was more important to Terry - the old man or her. If tonight was any indication, it was the old man.

"Dana!" That voice. Can it really be him? It can't be. "Dana! Over here!"

Behind her, shuffling through the crowd comes the rough and tough black haired stud she wonders why she calls a boyfriend. "Terry," she smiles. "What a surprise to see you here, out and about in the big bad world."

"Mr. Wayne gave me the night off," he yells over the speakers.

"Pinch me, I'm dreaming," she says aghast. She is as shocked as he is. Maybe the old man isn't as possessive of him after all.

"Yeah, I know. I can't believe it, either!" He looks to the next platform. "So you want to dance?"

"Wild Jokers couldn't stop me," laughs Dana, throwing his typical words back at him.

* * * *

"No Jokers out tonight," thought the Batman out loud. "Just a bunch of drunks kids having a little too much fun. This looks like a job for the street cops, not Batman."

"Keep looking." He can tell by Bruce's voice that something is troubling him. "This is typically a Joker hotspot for road blood-sport and what-not. If it's quiet, then something has to be up."

"Always the pessimist," the Dark Knight muses. "Is it possible that for one night this city _doesn't_ need a Batman to watch over it?"

The next thing he knows the ground below him is shaking, and surrounded by fire and debris he has lost all sense of direction. In free-fall the Batman looks around and sees the ground quickly approaching. His boosters fire and propel him once more to the rooftops.

From nowhere a pair of black tendrils shoots out and catches the detective's hands and feet. Its grip is tight, and powerless against it the Batman is pulled up another level to meet his attacker.

"At least, Batman," snarls the unholy specter before him. "We meet again."

"Who… are you?" The Batman struggles against the protoplasm holding him and carefully watches the glowing green skeleton of a man approaching.

"How soon we forget," he scowls. "Did you not think I'd be back to take my revenge on you?"

"His name is Blight, formerly Derek Powers," said Bruce into the two-way. "His body emits dangerous levels of radiation and he can throw powerful force blasts. The one holding you is Inque, a shape-shifter with a fear of water. Both are very powerful."

"Perhaps we have a third bat to join the boy and the old man," ponders Inque to her partner. "Perhaps he's even a replacement for the last Batman."

"No matter who wears the mask the spirit of the Batman is still the same." Blight glows angrier as his revenge has just been spoiled. "One after the other, no matter how many, I will make them all pay. I will make them all suffer for what they have done to me!"

Batman struggles desperately to free Inque's grip from around his throat. Slowly his air seems to run short, and consciousness begins to fade into black. So much for taking on the mantle of the bat, he realizes.

"Welcome to my gauntlet, Batman," snarls Blight. "Welcome to my custom-made Hell."

* * * *

Terry's cel phone rings urgently, but no-one is there to hear it. Instead, it sits idly in his jacket pocket waiting anxiously in the cloakroom. On the other side is a desperate old man, fearing what may be the end of one of his closest friends.

Meanwhile, Terry McGuiness dances alongside his girlfriend suggestively and catches up on the months of fun he's had to give up because of work. He didn't realize he missed being a teenager so much. Sure, it's not fighting crime and being Batman, but the thrill of the dance floor is different.

Though after ringing numerous times there is no answer. Bruce Wayne knows that his protégé will probably not answer, though feebly he tries for the sake of his fallen comrade.

* * * *

Batman wakes up. Conscious thought flows through his mind, though groggily. Light floods in as his eyelids slowly open to reveal… the jungle? Not an urban jungle like Gotham City, but a thick, lush, African jungle with vines, snakes, tigers and swamps.

He looks beneath his feet and he is standing on air. He can fly again? With a leap he tries to jump, but only does so as far as an average mortal with a mega-suit on could. The place he is in is obviously a fake, and his eyes cannot be trusted.

Neither can his ears be trusted, as from a million points at once echoes the name "Bat-man, come and get me," in a maniacal, sinister tone. His very reality seems to be warping around him, and he can't trust what is before him.

" . . . Can you hear . . ." is all he can manage to hear from his headset. Bruce has lost contact, and is probably sitting in the Batcave anxiously sitting on the edge of his seat.

There is nothing left to trust but his touch, and the Dark Knight reaches down to feel his way to some sort of escape. He kneels over to try, but is forcefully met with an invisible fist knocking him to his back.

A light flashes before him and he could see the Gotham skyline again, and standing over him two men. One dressed in red with a black spiral pattern on his costume and an eyeball in his hand. The other, dressed in black with silver armor and what looked like sonic disrupters attached to them.

". . . Spellbinder . . . Shriek . . ." is all he hears from Bruce before the transmission was cut again. The jungle reappears and once more the Dark Knight is left blind.

Unsure of where it might land he takes a swing, but hits nothing. Then a pair of fists come down onto the back of his head, forcing him down to his feet. The echoing taunts change their tone, now to a condescending laugh, like that over the Joker so many years ago.

He reasons that this must be some sort of hallucination, or a hologram. If so then their power must only have a limited range. With his limited power he cannot be able to stand much of a chance in close combat, so for now his only option is to flee.

Blindly he sprints to some unknown direction and the non-existing moonlit falls when the solid ground disappears from beneath him. It all fades away and the city can be seen and heard once again.

". . . k, can you hear me?" Bruce's voice kicks in on the transceiver once more.

"I hear you, Bruce, but I'm a little busy right now!"

Batman continues to fall, and looks down straight towards the glass roof waiting for him to crash through it.

* * * *

Terry and Dana danced through the crowd, completely oblivious to what was going on outside. All they knew was the intense sensation of the surrounding environment, the smell of sweat and hormones pumping, the flashing lights and the deafening bass beats.

"It's so great to be doing this again with you, Terry!" She had to yell to be heard.

"Yeah, I know," he yelled back. "I almost forgot what this was like!"

The music came to an abrupt end when the skylight shatters and shards of glass fall on the scurrying people. Hurriedly they leave the floor, leaving the Batman room to collapse at terminal velocity.

Good thing this suit is heavily armored, he thinks. I don't think I could have taken a beating like that without it.

The Dark Knight looks around him to see where he is. He notices the teenagers in shock looking at him, afraid to approach. Then he sees Terry. Today has been a day of many surprises for him, but another Batman? How can this be?

Before he could bring himself to his feet another powerful force pounds into his body. It felt like a meta-psychic blast. Though who would have that kind of power?

"Willy Watt," growls Terry under his breath. He watches the black-haired teen levitate from the roof and slowly to the ground where Batman struggles to gain the most basic footing.

"So," laughs Willy, "here we are again, Batman. Didn't think you'd see me so soon? You have Blight to thank for that . . ."

He waves his arm and another transparent wave knocks the Dark Knight backward, leaving him dazed and exhausted. After such a beating he wonders if he still remembers where he is.

"Leave him alone, Willy," screams Terry who dashed forward from the sea of people.

"Terry McGuiness," said Willy, recognizing him immediately. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You're always sticking your nose into my business, just like dark and ugly here."

He raised his arm to throw a blast at him, but is stopped when a girl dressed in a full half-black, half-white costume flies in his way upon a giant playing card. "Leave the people alone! We're here for Batman! Or have you forgotten?"

"Oh no, I don't think I've forgotten," he said laughing evilly. "I don't think I could ever forget. We're here for revenge . . ."

"Melanie?" Ten, formerly of the Royal Flush Gang glances at Terry for a moment. "Now I've seen everything!"

In the distance the sound of police sirens can be heard, growing louder and louder racing to the scene of the crime. From the roof a black ooze trickles, then takes the form of a slim woman with dark blue skin.

"Come on," commanded Inque. "We're getting out of here. Now."

"But we have the Batman at our mercy!" Though Willy's protest bears no consequence to the dangerous professional killer.

"Blight's orders," she re-asserts herself. "The last thing we need is police complicating matters. Now move."

"I guess I can wait," he relents. "Maybe next time he won't be such a pushover. See you soon, Dark Knight."

Inque slithers away with Willy Watt and Ten flying up behind her. In moments they are gone and the red flashing of the police sirens can be seem outside.

The Batman painfully draws himself to his feet and once again stares at the confused Terry McGuiness. Knowing the police to be moments away he fires his boosters and leaves the same way which he came.

Terry looks up, and ponders what just happened. Inque, Willy Watt and Ten, all working with Blight. Let's just hope there isn't more of them. And what's with the new Batman? How does he know me? Something tells me that Bruce will have all the answers I need . . .

* * * *

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NEXT ISSUE: The identity of the mystery new Batman revealed. Plus, more trouble for Terry McGuiness. Stay tuned for part two of Batman Beyond: Partners.


	2. Return of the World's Finest

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Batman Beyond: Partners  
By Alicia Evilstone

PART 2

Return of the World's Finest

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DISCLAIMER: Just so you all know, I do not in any way claim to have any ownership over the characters within this tale. That privilege is exclusively for the folks of DC Comics (who should also know that this is a non-profit kind of story.)

* * * *

"Bruce!" Terry yells into the cave. "I know you're down there!"

Wild bats flutter about and screech through the darkness, spooked by the young man's voice. Each foot echoes as it hits a new step. Terry fearlessly enters the deeper recesses of darkness, knowing that inside he will find his mentor, Bruce Wayne, the original Batman, and his answers.

Bruce sits in his chair in front of the large computer monitor and doesn't turn around to greet his successor. Instead he just casually continues with his work as if nothing was wrong.

"Bruce, I know you're hiding something from me! Now tell me, who was that parading around as Batman last night?" Following the young man's request he nods his head toward one corner where a large man wearing the Batman costume is sitting and taking off pieces of the bionic suit.

"That would be me, Terry," he said taking off the mask.

Terry jumps back in shock. "I don't believe this. I've got to be dreaming. This just isn't possible."

"I believe you already know my friend, Clark Kent," says Bruce, more formally introducing the two. "Though you might know him better as . . ."

". . . Superman." Would his body have allowed it Terry's jaw would have hit the floor and his tongue would be rolling about the place.

"Good to see you again, Terry," says Clark, putting on his glasses. "Sorry to have shocked you like that."

"Wait, this doesn't add up," deduces Terry. "You're the Man of Steel, and I saw Willy Watt hand you your butt on a plate! How is that possible?"

Bruce looks to Clark, inviting him silently to tell his tale. He nods and beckons for the young Batman to sit before him.

"The reason for my current . . . hindrance . . . in my strength and power doesn't even take place here on Earth." Terry sits and listens intently. "Years ago, on the world of New Genesis, a prophecy came that predicted that the New God Orion would face his father Darkseid in a battle to the death, and based on whoever won the fate of the entire universe would rest.

"Hungry for a quick victory, Darkseid enslaved the planet Daxam, whose people had a similar physiology to mine in the sense that they lived under a red sun, and if placed under a yellow sun would gain fantastic powers and abilities, also very much the same as mine.

"Fearing the worst, the Justice League's own resident New God, Barda Free, called on our help in this battle, and we gladly joined her. The battle was long and hard, though we came through when Green Lantern managed to open a portal with the New Genesian 'Boom Tube' device. With my own strength I managed to draw the Daxamites back into their own system, and back under the weakening effects of the red sun."

"Which neutralized your powers also . . ." Terry was shocked. What a fantastic story this was to lead to the coming of a third Batman. "You really mean to say that you gave up your own super-power to save the universe?"

"They don't call him Superman for nothing," muses Bruce.

Clark Kent blushes for a moment, realizing that such praise is rare from one such as the original Batman. "Thank you, Bruce. Though I'm sure either of you would have done the same if you were in my boots."

Terry's eyes light up. "Though what about the battle between the New Gods? What about the fate of . . . of . . . of everything?"

"Orion and Darkseid were absorbed into the heart of creation known as 'the Source'," Clark explains. "The two of them will probably be battling each other for a thousand years, maybe more."

Terry searches for an intelligent response. "Wow . . . totally schway . . ."

"And so, Terry," continues Bruce, "Clark was left temporarily out of commission. And since it is such a waste to see such an experienced crime-fighter go to waste I thought I would allow the two of you to switch places for the evening. Speaking of which, Clark, was it all you lived up to be?"

"That, and a whole lot more," says Clark cradling his ribs.

"I know the feeling," smirks Terry knowingly.

"We'll have more time to chat later," interrupts Bruce. "For now we have to address last night's attacks."

Terry sits up. "That's the other thing I wanted to know about. Why would Willy Watt and Ten team up with Blight and Inque?"

"As well as those other two I encountered," says Clark. "Spellbinder and Shriek."

Terry is shocked. "Whoa. All six of them make for a pretty brutal challenge. Why do you think they've come together?"

"They're a number of foes who've come together for the one cause, putting aside their differences for the one goal. Just like the Justice League, except their goal is revenge against Batman. All of them have the motive."

"So, where do we start looking?" Terry thinks about his past encounters, but can find no other common links.

Bruce checks his computer. "According to the Blackgate Prison database, Willy Watt, Inque, Shriek and Spellbinder are still confined in their cells. This is the first place we should look for more clues."

"Alright," says Terry, "but I'm going this time. I've fought these guys before, so it's me they want. I'm going to handle it myself."

Bruce smiles. "Very good. Clark's suit was trashed in battle last night and yours is still in the chambers. Suit up and prepare to move out."

"You go it." Terry dashes back across the cave and into the chambers where he will don the mantle and once again become the Dark Knight detective, Batman.

"Do you really think he can handle it alone, Bruce?"

"Weren't you the one who told me I didn't place nearly enough confidence in him?" Clark frowns at him, upset as he always is when he gets his words thrown back at him. "Besides, he's not going alone."

"I hope you don't mean me. How am I supposed to help in the field in my current condition?"

Bruce stands and walks his friend to another portion of the cave. With the press of a button a large rock moves and reveals something which puts a look of surprise on the Man of Steel's face. "I had this specially ordered from Metropolis."

"Oh," says Superman. "I see."

* * * *

The Batmobile cuts through the night like a black stealth hawk through the shadows. It slices through the air and over the shimmering waters, away from the lights of the city and racing ever closer to a single island only a few miles away.

There lies Blackgate Prison, home of Gotham's monsters. Most of them were put there by the Batman, some not. All the same they tell stories and rumors, and much hatred for the Dark Knight lies within those walls.

Terry is flying the Batmobile straight into it, ready to face them head on. A handful of them nearly killed Superman, though they really wanted him.

He parks the Batmobile by the dark rocks near the violently crashing waves and the spray of the sea. He turns the switch on his belt and becomes transparent and unseen. Even in the light he is now hidden.

Sprinting along the walls he dodges the lights and searches for the warden's office. Even though he must remain invisible, the authorities should still know the truth behind some certain missing inmates.

The light in the warden's office is on. He has stayed late to finish his papers, just as Terry was told he would be. The white-bearded man felt a breeze and goes to close his window. Then he hears a voice behind him.

"Hello, Warden," says the Batman.

"Batman?" The Warden seems to have a mild heart attack from seeing him appear from nowhere. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to see some of your inmates," he says. "If you don't take me to them then I fear that I may already be too late."

"Absolutely not," the Warden states. "I won't bow to the whim of some mad vigilante, even if he is the infamous Batman."

"That wasn't a request, Warden. Take me to the Willy Watt's cell. Now." There is an awkward pause between the two. "Please."

Reluctantly the warden relents, and asks for two of his guards to escort them to Willy Watt's cell. Two shady men, dressed in black and armed with automatic rifles enter and lead them to the requested area.

Before them sits Willy Watt, smiling, watching, being generally eerie as teenage supervillains tend to. On his arms and head are strapped metal clamps to hold his powers in place. Strangely, he seems to see right through the Batman . . .

"Alright, Willy," snarls Batman, reaching to him. "Time to talk."

"Oh my God…" The Dark Knight's hand passes right through him, and like some ghost he disappears. Where he sat was only a cold, dead glass eyeball. "He's gone!"

"And so are Ira Billings and Max Shreiv," the Batman points out. "The three of them attacked me last night, and I suspect they've been free for some time."

"Call the commissioner," orders the Warden. "I want a full investigation immediately!"

* * * *

In the main control room, three guards watch the prison as men run up and down searching for recent escapees. They scramble to relay messages, to find particular faces, to see that one tiny detail that might lead to the situation's resolution. So far, no such luck.

A hard knock comes from the steel door. One guard goes to open it and is met by another guard. Yet for some strange reason the other guard had his eyes closed . . .

"Hey, buddy! What are you doing? Sleepwal . . ." Though before he can finish his sentence the unconscious guard has his leg swinging into the air to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to the other man's jaw. The other two guards reach for their guns, but are taken out when large oily tendrils shoot from the guard's black suit and slam their heads down to the panel.

Another gang of uniformed guards storms the steel runway, attacking the intruder directly. From one of the sleeping guards she grabs a pistol and unloads a full clip into them, then slamming and sealing the metal door behind her.

"Inque, are you there?" The voice over the radio is deep and harsh. She takes form and picks it up.

"I'm in the control room."

"Excellent," he responds. "Find the master control panel and open all of the cells. Do not discriminate. Every vile criminal in this facility is to be freed. Understood?"

"Absolutely," she says coldly flicking the switches. Red lights flash all over and images of inmates flood the screens. "Mission accomplished."

With that she destroys the panel, liquefies and sinks away into the open cracks.

* * * *

A streak of black and silver rockets over the restless black waters of the Gotham coast, propelled to a tiny black island by fire blasting from its boots. In one hand the metal man grasps a long hammer, and under his stern mask he smiles.

"I guess now I am literally the Man of Steel, hey Bruce?" Clark muses into the microphone. "I thought Lexcorp put these suits out of commission at least twenty years ago."

"They did," reports Bruce. "Though I felt it was probably best if I borrowed one for one . . . for my own purposes, you understand."

"Of course." Good old Bruce, he thinks. He always said Superman was just a big Boy Scout, though Batman was the one who was always prepared.

Bruce interrupts his train of thought. "Get ready, Steel. There's been a mass breakout on Blackgate, and Batman is caught dead in the middle of it."

Steel focuses and fires the after-burners on his thrusters. If Terry is going to have to face Gotham's entire underworld, then he'd be damned if he was going to do it alone.

* * * *

The Dark Knight stands in the center of the wide concrete floor where the prisoners from that block lie unconscious in their orange uniforms. The black-suited guards with automatic rifles stand over them with the area secured all thanks to Batman.

The cell doors still stand open on all levels, and small fires burn in the corners. In the distance, the screams of liberated convicts can be heard amongst the laser-fire and explosions. There's a lot more work to be done here this night.

"What do we do, Batman?" The warden is in a state of panic and alarm. "The entire facility has been over-run. What has happened?"

Batman knows exactly what happened. "Derek Powers is what happened. He's lead me into a trap, and you and all of your people are caught in the crossfire."

"Derek Powers? You mean Blight?" The Batman nods. "How are we meant to stop him while there is a full-scale riot going on?"

"You don't do anything. If it's me he wants, then it's me he'll get. This trap was intended for me, and I plan to face it alone. If you have to do anything keep this area secure and try to stop the violence in the other blocks. I'm going straight for Maximum Security."

Saying that the Batman fires his thrusters and disappears through the roof and into the night, leaving the prison guards somewhat dazed. Quickly they load their weapons and prepare themselves. They all know that this is going to be a long night.

* * * *

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NEXT ISSUE: Batman and Steel enter Blackgate's maximum-security wing and face Blight with the new Revenge Squad. Stay tuned for part 3 of Batman Beyond: Partners.


	3. Breakout

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Batman Beyond: Partners  
By Alicia Evilstone

PART 3

Breakout

* * * *

__

DISCLAIMER: Just so you all know, I do not in any way claim to have any ownership over the characters within this tale. That privilege is exclusively for the folks of DC Comics (who should also know that this is a non-profit kind of story.)

* * * *

"Blow it up!" This is the catch-cry heard as the north wall of Blackgate Prison is devoured by a great ball of fire, leaving gravel and debris to fly everywhere.

"An explosives nut," mumbles Steel. "Just great."

"His name is 'Mad Stan'," Bruce informs him through the headset. "A former vandal in his teenage years, turned political activist, turned anti-commercial terrorist. He believes the philosophy of worldwide anarchy, and his fondest wish is to…"

"Don't tell me," Steel interrupts. ". . . Blow it all up?"

"Bingo."

Steel brings himself to the island's shoreline where inmates are still scrambling for freedom, and there, laughing as mad as the Joker is Stan, not impressed by the hero's arrival.

"I know what you are," he spits. "You're just a guy in an antique Lexcorp Steel suit. Another corporate puppet blinding people from living real lives." Steel tilts his head curiously. "So if you don't get out of my way then I'm gonna have to . . ."

"What?" says Steel. "Blow me up?"

"You catch on fast, tin man," Mad Stan smirks hurling an explosive towards him. A small bomb latches to the side of Steel's armor. The red light on top beeps anxiously, flashing faster and faster until it explodes, engulfing the man of steel into a cloud of fire and smoke.

"Human liberation one, superhuman oppressors nil! HA!" Mad Stan dances before the fire, cackling like a maniac, under the distinct impression that he had won that bout. However, he is wrong.

From the fire comes a large metallic fist which collides painfully with his jaw, forcing the terrorist into the air and crashing onto one of the still standing pillars of the prison wall. His body flops to the ground unconscious, but still breathing.

"I think I hit him a little harder than I should have," says Steel to himself.

"That's okay," Bruce replies. "Nobody is going to hold that against you."

"Alright, Bruce. You know the score. What do I need to do to put things right around here?" Steel waits and listens for the plan. He surveys the area and anxiously listens to the sounds of the fires and the cries. Smoke billows out from every direction and literally hundreds of bodies are dashing for the shores.

"Assuming Terry has everything under control on his end, our main concern is the maximum security wing." Bruce's tone is grimmer than usual. "Small timers like Willy Watt and Spellbinder were kept in the south block where Terry is now. You'll be going after the main man . . ."

"Blight," says the Man of Steel. "I'm on my way now."

* * * *

"They may as well be running towards open traffic," mutters the Batman while fending off prisoners. One by one they charge, and in a flurry of fists, kicks and flips he takes them all as they come. "This is way too easy."

"Only because you have the suit to back you up," Bruce tells him. "When the time comes for you to face the Revenge Squad it will be a whole different ball game."

The thrusters on Batman's heels fire, propelling him to a higher vantagepoint. On the thin edge of a rail he pivots and cries down to the huddled mass below. "Surrender now, all of you! You can't hope to beat me!"

Suddenly, a pair of slick black tendrils wraps around his arms and pulls him from the ground. "Maybe they won't be able to do it alone, Batman," says a familiar female voice, "though there are those of us who are stronger than regular mortals."

"Inque! Let me go!" The Batman struggles and is held towering helplessly above the angry mass. Again, he is blindsided by a powerful shot, as if a hundred fists simultaneously are pounding into his spine. His is left loose and dangling, and then he sees the face of his attacker.

"Ah, the Dark Knight. Helpless, powerless, and right within our grasp." Willy Watt steps forward from the shadows smiling hideously. Cowering behind him and looking away is Ten of the Royal Flush Gang. "Care to take a shot, Ten?"

She declines. Though the offer is taken up by another when the Batman is hit by a blast of sound vibrations shaking his entire skeletal structure. He looks over to see the black and silver visage of Shriek. "How about a game of _Pass the Bat_?"

"I don't mind if I do," says Willy. He pulls his arm back and launches it forward, releasing a blast of kinetic energy. As Inque swings him from side to side he takes blasts from both villains and gradually loses more of his strength. "Come on, Ten. Take a shot."

Again she refuses, and just looks away. For some strange reason she feels pain for him, but nowhere near the kind of pain he is suffering at the hands of three of his deadliest foes.

* * * *

Steel arrives in the cold corridors of the maximum-security wing. The gates have been sealed and the section is secure. "All looks as it should be," he comments into the speaker.

"This section runs on a different system to the primary mainframe," Bruce informs him. "Though chances are that Blight or one of his henchmen will strike here next to push the situation past breaking point."

Steel looks through the windows. Magma, Freon, 2D - the Terrific Trio, are still in their confines. Curaré is locked in a smaller cell, almost like a living coffin. A shiver runs down his spine. In this new age this place seems awfully close to what Arkham Asylum used to be.

Then, at the end, a red and black figure with a spiral-like design on his costume appears. He knows this to be the villain known as Spellbinder. Steel is still, then fires his thrusters as lunges toward his foe. However, he seems to pass right through.

An illusion, just as he thought. He keeps wary for what dangers lurk around, though knows he can't trust his senses. If only he had his super-powers. Then he would be able to detect the origins of abnormal light refractions which were causing these stressful visions.

"Come out, Spellbinder," he says out loud. "I know you are here."

"Oh, I'm here, alright," echoes a distinct voice. "It's just unfortunate that you do not know where here is."

The room darkens and everything is as black as pitch. The only thing lightened is Steel's body, glowing almost heavenly in the abyss. From the cracks appears Spellbinder again, then another, and another . . . in mere moments a total of 46 Spellbinders have appeared ready to face Steel in combat.

"Only one of us is real, though any one of us could destroy you." Their chant is eerie, like those of the demons he's fought in the past. As one they pounce. As one they smother Steel and hack away at his outer shell with their hands.

"Clark, get out of there!" Though it is no use. Steel is lost in a pile of human savagery and cannot seem to find a way out. "Clark, listen to my voice. I will guide you. Spellbinder's illusions do not affect our vid-link."

Steel chokes under the suggestion that those on top of him are strangling him to death and tearing his body apart. It may be an illusion, but if anything he seems to be able to feel it. Though he knows they are only impulses in his brain being fooled to think that he is being attacked.

"Turn around. Give me a clear view of the room." Bruce checks the diagnostics of the room. The Geiger counter in the suit is reading off the scale. "Clark, the room is hot. Blight is there with you."

Steel turns to his side painfully, and through the video and into the cave Bruce can see Spellbinder holding a bright glass orb, and beside him the radioactive ghoul, Blight. They are right there in front of him.

"Throw the hammer dead ahead, upwards at a 32 degree angle. Now." Steels arm swings like mad and it releases the large mallet from its grip and into Spellbinder's crystal ball, leaving it shattered and broken on the ground.

"You fool," curses Blight. "You couldn't even defeat a pretender like this _Steel_ man here."

"I'm sorry, Blight," he stammers, "I just . . . "

"No excuses," he hisses. "You are useless without your illusions. Now go. See what you can do to aid the others in the other areas."

Spellbinder flees, and in a furious rage Blight's hands emanate a sinister energy. He smirks like a man with nothing left to lose, a man who would lose his life to gain some small grasp of victory.

The Man of Steel calls back his hammer. "Now, it's just you and me, Blight."

"Yes," he says. "It looks like I will have to take you down myself."

* * * *

Meanwhile, back at the riot center, Batman is still hanging from the ceiling supported by Inque. Willy Watt and Shriek are on either side taking shots and thrusting him from one side to another like a tennis ball. In the middle he can feel his rubs burn. His flesh aches and he can feel the sharp broken bone inside cut into him. Never before has he taken such a beating.

Beneath him the inmates are cheering and screaming for blood. One or two fire shots from rifles and guns they've stolen from unconscious guards. They all seem to think that it is the greatest show on Earth. They all want to see the Batman fall to one of their own. All that is, but one.

Ten watches reluctantly, not at all taking any satisfaction from the bloodbath before her. She was just a thief, not a murderer. She agreed to join with Blight so she might free her family again. Though this is just brutal.

"Willy," she says. "Stop it. Stop it now."

"Why, babe?" He doesn't even look when he's talking to her. "Can't you see we're having the time of our lives? Can't you see we're about to be rid of the Batman forever? Then there's no stopping us . . ."

"I'm sorry, Willy." Ten pulls the ace of spades from her suit and flicks it towards the young man in front of her. It explodes on his back, sending his flaming body falling into the crowd. "You used to understand. I used to think you were like me. Now I know better."

Using this distraction the Batman reaches for his belt and from it removes a single blue batarang. His body swings up, his legs flying over his head. The batarang collides with the heart of the blob, sending it falling to the ground also. In that instant the Dark Knight throws an explosive to the ground, hitting a water mane, splashing water everywhere, leaving Inque unable to take her proper form.

He lands safely on his two feet on the lower deck. Searching around he can see that Ten has conveniently disappeared. Willy Watt's flaming unconscious body has been extinguished and Inque is . . . incapacitated.

Behind him stands Shriek. The Batman turns to face him, cradling his chest. He mutters to himself, "And then there was one."

Shriek howls in rage and throws his arms into the air. He charges at Batman with water splashing about his ankles. The Dark Knight takes a more passive approach and does his best to avoid the shots.

"Enough of this," barks Shriek. "This ends now."

The villain turns up the power of his suit and prepares to fire wave after wave of Earth-shattering sound at his opponent. Then it comes, and with his lightning reflexes the Batman launches himself into the air and fires his thrusters.

A violent tremor shakes the entire complex, and pieces of debris fall downward. One well-timed kick forces Shriek back and into the path of a large brick. His suit protects him, though underneath he has fallen unconscious.

Knowing his current challenge is over, Terry relents to the pain and lets down his guard. The fire inside feels like it's going to explode. He most probably has some minor internal bleeding going on.

"Terry," growls a voice in his headset. "Is everything okay?"

"Just perfect," he moans, holding back the full extent of his agony. "Four of the Revenge Squad have been dealt with. I only have Spellbinder and Blight ahead of me."

"Steel has already taken care of Spellbinder," he is told.

"Steel?" Terry thinks on this for a moment. "You mean Clark is out here?"

"I thought you could use the back-up."

Terry sighs angrily, knowing he can't fight with Bruce's judgement. "Fine. What about Blight?"

"Steel is in the process of rectifying that situation as we speak." For a moment there is silence. "Terry?"

Finally, he speaks. "Where is he?"

"Forget it, McGuiness," Bruce states flatly. "You're in a bad way. Come back to base before you get hurt. This is Steel's battle for now."

"I'm going to help him," the new Batman growls. "I'm not going to stop, even if you turn off my suit. I'm going to stop this insanity . . . whatever it takes."

* * * *

The side wall explodes into the night. Prisoners in bright orange uniforms look up suddenly to see the armored figure thrust out mingled in fire. Next they know he crashes into the rocks below with a heavy thud. Stones break and tumble into the water, and among them Steel stands with his suit torn and his body growing weary and tired.

Opposite to him from the smoking hole is a husk of a man, only recognizable by his skeletal base covered by an almost supernatural shade of green. Once he was just a mortal, though he was changed. Now he is a beast, he is a walking death. A long time ago his name was Derek Powers, but know he is known to all as Blight.

"Nice fall, Steel," he muses with a devilish tone. "I'm surprised that you survived. What I unleashed on you was more power than I've unleashed on the Batman himself."

Steel holds his crackling wiring together and pants heavily. "You'll never get away with this. As we speak a horde of police are heading toward this island."

"Let them come," he says. "Then they will have the honor of watching me kill the man who thought he was Superman. Then maybe, just maybe, the man who thought he was Bat-man."

With his one still functioning arm Steel swings his hammer over his head and down to the ground below Blight's feet. More rocks shatter, and the monster nearly falls off his perch. With a snarl he responds with a wave of energy erupting from his fingertips, searing the outside of the man of steel's outer plating.

"You cannot defeat me," he laughs. "I have grown far too powerful!"

Again, Steel lunges forward, but his suit has grown slow and clumsy. Blight avoids his blow, and tightly grips his hand around his enemy's neck. His hand is like that of a death, melting away at the metal, probing for the core. It grows ever tighter and his grip does not for a moment relent.

"You . . . are but the first of many," chants the madman. "Say hello to the Devil for me."

"I don't think so, Blight." On the high rocks appears the Batman with a large cannon under his arm. Taken by surprise, Steel in his last ounce of strength tackles the villain, forcing him into the line of fire.

"NO!" The cannon fires and from it shoots a large net engulfing the sinister Blight from head to toe. Slowly and gradually, it begins to feed off the radiation emanating from his body, rendering the enemy useless. "You can't do this to me!"

Steel steps over Derek Powers and stares into the eyes. "You could kill one hundred Supermen, Blight. You could kill a hundred Batman. Though no matter what, there will always be a hundred more to take their place."

In the distant the police sirens wail, once again too late for all of the action. Steel and Batman look at one another and smile, knowing this is their moment to leave.

* * * *

The Batmobile hovers over the water, slower than usual, but still at a steady pace. The driver inside has a lot of recovering to do. On his side flying on fewer rockets than always is Steel, also torn and mangled from the last battle.

A hazy shade of orange and pink covers the Gotham City skyline as the early morning twilight creeps in. Both heroes smile under their masks, knowing that they've fought the good fight and won.

Clark Kent speaks into the Batmobile intercom. "You did good out there, Terry."

"Thanks," he says back.

"How did you know to arrive just at that time with the net? Without you there I probably wouldn't have made it off the island alive." An earnest compliment from a mild-mannered hero.

"I anticipated encountering Blight, so I packed the net cannon just in case. It's always best to be prepared."

Superman smiles under his Steel façade and imagines Terry's stern face behind the tinted black Batmobile windows. "We'll make a Batman out of you yet, son."

****

THE END


End file.
